


A Case Of The Monday's

by breezy_mcwheezy



Category: Magic School Bus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 03:10:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20324107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breezy_mcwheezy/pseuds/breezy_mcwheezy
Summary: After graduation, Arnold decides a visit to an old teacher is in order.





	A Case Of The Monday's

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always a sucker for cute fanfiction, and the idea of Arnold coming back to visit Miss Frizzle years after having her as a teacher just makes me happy. This is also where I'm dropping all of my headcanons about the series and the characters, plus this is laying the foundation for a possible multi-chapter fic.

The time after high school graduation, before one left for college, were a strange time. It was a void of a sort, a liminal space in the blazing summer heat. All one could do was prepare for the next stage of life while reminiscing on the last. Perhaps one could pick up a job or an internship to make the time roll by faster. Volunteer or join a club. Go out with friends and celebrate. There were options upon options, yes, but none seemed quite satisfying.

And this satisfaction was what Arnold was looking for. It was a Monday morning and the heat wasn’t completely unbearable as he walked down the sidewalk. Walkerville was buzzing and lively. Just yesterday was graduation and today wasn’t his first Monday out of school, no, but it was his first Monday with a diploma and his first day as what he could call a real adult. Sure, he had turned eighteen during the course of his senior year, but he wasn’t a real adult until he walked across the stage and accepted his diploma and gave his valedictorian speech. Now he was a real adult who had to go back to work tomorrow, a job to hold him over until September came and he was off to college. 

Of course, now that he had a day off, he had unfinished business to attend to. He wasn’t dreading said business, no, but it certainly was something that he had been putting off and he knew it. It was a different kind of anxiety, different from the kind he usually faced in his day to day life. It was an anxious excitement if anything. He was excited, but anxious not knowing the full outcome. It was full of surprises and above all else, Arnold hated surprises.

Still, the walk had a sense of familiarity to it. He had walked these sidewalks hundreds of times during his childhood, thousands, perhaps. This certain sidewalk was no different and was a frequent part of his path. And he knew the exact house he needed to go to. Granted, for quite some time, he passed that house not knowing who lived there. But a silly coincidence in the fourth grade and then he couldn’t forget it. Fundraising in February, selling lightbulbs, a broken doorbell, eavesdropping and wrong assumptions. What a wild day.

Admittedly, Arnold hadn’t stepped foot on the property since. After he moved on to the fifth grade and higher years, he only saw his former teacher on occasion. A trip to the grocery store, out with friends after school, that one odd chance at the mall upstate. It was always strange seeing her out of school on her own. She always looked so...normal. Utterly normal. As if she wasn’t some erratic and off-the-walls redhead teacher with a passion for science and adventure. Out of school, she was just a middle-aged woman who almost, just almost blended into the crowd. It was almost funny, in fact. It made him chuckle. 

Arnold stood in front of the gate, staring across the lawn. It hadn’t changed much since he had last seen it. The brick walls still stood, the garden was still impeccable, but the roofing had been replaced in the last few years, going from a dark purple to emerald green. The eccentricity of that woman still showed through. And as he opened the gate and stepped through, shutting it behind him and starting up towards the sidewalk, Arnold realised that he had no clue what to expect. And that filled him with an overwhelming sense of anxiety and dread.

Was she home today? He wasn’t sure. It was summer vacation, he knew for a fact she didn’t have work today. But it was a Monday and from what he knew and remembered, his former teacher couldn’t just take a day off. She was a busybody and a workaholic who always had to be doing something. If there wasn’t something to do, then she’d make something to do. Easy and simple enough. So, what would be the chance that she’d be home on a Monday morning? Such a proposition left Arnold cursing himself. He should have thought this through better. Of course, she wouldn’t be home on a Monday morning. She was probably out at the library or the grocery store, doing whatever one would do on a day like this. She wouldn’t be at home, no. She’d be out enjoying the weather and getting things done.

Despite that realisation, Arnold still found himself walking up the steps onto the porch and standing in front of the door, finger hovering over the doorbell. His stomach flip-flopped and he gulped. Why was he so nervous? Anxiety be damned, he was going to do this. He just needed to face his nerves and do it.

The doorbell chimed inside, loud enough for Arnold to hear the faint echo of it, followed by the sound of shuffling. And with that, the front door opened, a familiar face grinning up at him. A short ginger woman with mischievous brown eyes and a hooked nose. She had aged gracefully since fourth grade, the wrinkles almost gentle and blending into her features, and the few faded strands of red going blonde fitting perfectly into the rest. And just as expected, or not as expected, depending on how one looked at things, for once, she looked perfectly normal as she clutched a bright orange mug of tea, or as normal as a woman like her could be, in a brightly patterned blouse, white jeans, and strange earrings, with a certain Jackson chameleon perched on her shoulder.

“Arnold! What a surprise!”  
“Hi, Miss Frizzle. Mind if I come in?”  
“Of course! And you do realise you don’t have to call me that anymore, correct?”

Arnold chuckled as he stepped inside, his former teacher shutting the door behind the two of them. The interior was as colourful as he expected from her, of course, and it was quite homey as she led him through the foyer into the living room. A gesture from her and the two of them were sat down, Arnold on the couch and she in her chair.

“Yeah, but it’d be weird to call you anything else. You’ve always been the Friz.”  
“Well, I can’t deny that fact, that’s for sure. Do you want anything to drink?”  
“Nah, I’m fine.”

She smiled back at him as she set her tea on the coffee table, leaning back in the chair and crossing her legs. Liz crawled up from her shoulder. Miss Frizzle, or Valerie, apparently, now. It was strange calling his old teacher by her first name. A new kind of different. He still looked up to her, yes, but the implication of calling her by her first name meant they were on the same level. No longer did she see him as a student. She saw him as a mutual, an equal, a colleague, even.

“You did absolutely wonderful yesterday. Fantastic speech.”  
“Thanks,” Arnold replied, “Honestly, I was really nervous. I finally finished revising it on Friday night and I spent all day Saturday memorising it.”  
“Well, it was well-written and well-spoken, Arnold. And I’m proud of you for going up there and speaking in front of everyone. As Mark Twain once said, ‘there are only two types of speakers in this world. The nervous and the liars’.”

Of course, she never changed. Still quoting the greats, wasn’t she? For a small woman, she was jammed packed with personality, more than enough to go around and then some. Granted, someone like that was good. In a world of negativity, a world of cruelty and hatred, it was good to have some spark of good.

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Arnold asked. His former teacher shook her head, a few curls escaping her bun and bouncing along.  
“Not at all. I’m taking a few days to rest and collect myself. I’m flying out next week. Off to help ol’ Aunt Andromeda off in the Mayan ruins. She’s doing an archaeological dig and offered me a spot. Of course, I’d take it. Who would I be not to?”  
“That’s awesome! How long will you be down there?”  
“Most if not all of summer break. I’ll be back in time for school in the fall, of course, but I’m enjoying my time off, that’s for sure.”

Valerie looked more than content with herself in such a decision. Another opportunity to go out and explore, of course. The only thing she loved more than teaching was learning more for herself.

“So, Arnold, what brings you out here? I’d think you’d be off doing hoodrat stuff with your friends or the like,” she chuckled. Liz nodded and climbed down Valerie’s arm onto the chair. She balanced on the edge, before jumping down onto the coffee table between them.  
“More like holing myself up in a library,” he replied. He couldn’t help but laugh at her joke. “I dunno, I’ve been meaning to come out here and say ‘hello’ and catch up. Honestly, I’ve been kind of avoiding you if anything.”  
“And why is that? I’m not that scary. For Pete’s sake, Arnold, you’re taller than me.”  
“You got me there, Friz, not going to lie. I dunno. I’ve been kinda worried about college and I don’t want to let you down. You always saw the best in all of us and I’d feel bad for not living up to your expectations.”  
“Not living up to my expectations? Arnold, you graduated top of your class and got into one of the best colleges in the state. I knew you were more than capable of it and look at you go. Words can’t even begin to describe how proud of you I am.”

Arnold pushed up his glasses and beamed, as any remaining bit of anxiety dissipated into nothing. What had he been afraid of? Of course, everything would be fine. This was Miss Frizzle he was talking to. 

“Thanks. That means a lot, honestly.”  
“It’s not a problem. How have the others been? I haven’t heard from them at all.”  
“We’re not as close as we used to be,” Arnold confessed, “I don’t see most of them much anymore. We grew apart in middle school and now I just talk to them occasionally. We’d sometimes sit together at lunch or hang out at homecoming. I heard that Tim got a scholarship and he’s going to art school. Phoebe went back to her old school. Dorothy Ann was salutatorian, you know that. She gave a speech before I did. I think Ralphie got spotted by some college scout and he’s going to be playing college baseball. I’m not sure what happened to Keesha. I heard she joined the film club at the high school and did a documentary over the history of Walkerville. Carlos has been doing comedy. No surprise there.”  
“And Wanda?” Valerie asked.  
“We’ve been going steady since freshman year. Crazy, huh?”  
“Not a surprise there either,” she replied. She leant back in her chair, giving him her trademark mischievous smile. Of course. She always knew better. “I could always tell. Either way, I’m happy for you, Arnold. Glad to see how that worked out for you.”

Arnold beamed again.

“What about you? How has teaching been?”  
“Wonderful, as always. There’s no better feeling than sending off another class with lessons to last a lifetime and a strong foundation for not just the next year, but the rest of their educational careers.”  
“And the field trips?”  
“Better every time.”

Valerie crossed her arms and bounced her foot as she relaxed her chair. It was definitely a change, seeing her casual and almost rational, having a straight-forward conversation, but a positive change, nonetheless. Arnold could almost take it for granted. Almost. Either way, he hoped he’d have more opportunities like it. He still had so much to learn from Valerie. She was a fascinating woman, almost a mischievous cryptid. Everyone in Walkerville either knew her or knew of her. They knew quite a bit about her, yes, but it barely scratched the surface. She was an old soul and she had been around for quite some time. How old even was she? She seemed ageless, full of energy, but she had an aura of someone who had existed for centuries and held the knowledge of such an existence. If anything, Arnold aspired to be like her. 

“Where did you go to high school?” he asked, “I mean, you know so much about us. But what about you?”  
“Not Walkerville,” she chuckled, “I can tell you that much.”  
“Well, I figured. No one’s found you in an old yearbook as a student. Only teaching.” 

And said records went on for quite some time. There was no mention of a new hire. One yearbook she wasn’t there and the next she was. Clearly younger, yes. Fresh-faced and just-out-of-college. She wore glasses and had bangs, despite the curls, and had a certain amount of babyface to her. No mention of hiring. No mention of a “meet the new staff”. Simply a photo in the staff directory and a two-page spread about field trips.

“And that’s a good thing,” she replied, “if I’m to be honest with you. No one needs to see my old yearbook photos.”  
“I’m sure they weren’t that bad.”  
“Oh, no, they were bad. I wasn’t alone, of course. All of us were in solidarity with our bad hair and questionable fashion choices,” Valerie laughed.  
“What year did you graduate?”

She reached out, grabbing her tea from the coffee table and taking a sip. Valerie raised an eyebrow at Arnold.

“Take a wild guess.”  
“I don’t know. ‘75?”  
“You’re being generous.”

Arnold’s eyes widened behind his wire-frame glasses, staring at her incredulously.

“What year?”  
“1969. I told you, you were being generous. I mean, I graduated at sixteen. But still, generous. Quite generous.”

Arnold could only imagine it. A young Valerie, not much younger than him, dancing around in hippie attire, protesting the Vietnam War, jamming to vinyls of Hendrix. A bit of that so-called cryptid nature started to unravel. Of course, she was a magical woman, no doubt about it. But a bit of that past shrouded in mystery seemed to clear up. But that only raised more questions.

“Did you grow up near here?”  
“Not at all. I’m from out in the Midwest. Grandparents owned a farm, my parents rented a house from them and owned an auto-shop, small-town life, yadda yadda. I’m from old money, yes, but my family wanted to live humble and keep hidden. I mean, sure, I was born in America, but my family isn’t from here originally, no.”  
“Where is your family from?”  
“My father’s side of the family came over from Germany during World War II to escape.”  
“Escape from what?”

Valerie raised her eyebrows and with a dainty finger, pointed to her nose. That was enough for Arnold. He nodded slowly in understanding.

“That explains how you knew so much about Channukah,” he said, thinking back to the holiday season in her class.  
“Most of my family became agnostic or atheist after we arrived, for obvious reasons. And they changed the spelling of our last name during the process of immigrating. For the best, if anything, despite the situational irony. People don’t believe me, usually, when I give it. People don’t realise it’s a misspelling.”  
“I never even thought about that, honestly.”  
“I don’t expect anyone to.” Valerie took another sip of tea. “It’s not exactly something brought up in passing conversation and certainly not in a grade school classroom. Your family fleeing their home and losing a bit of their identity in order to survive in a new country isn’t exactly a kid-friendly tale. But that’s beside the point.”

She sighed, pulling her feet up onto the chair, before continuing.

“I’m not at all obligated to share my history or my story with the general public. I share what I feel needs to be shared at the moment if it is for the benefit of the situation and leave it at whatever needs to be said.”  
“Yeah. You always seem to know exactly what to say and how much to say.”  
“It’s a learned practice and a learned trait. It doesn’t come easy, I’ll tell you that much. It took years to learn and develop. But it’s a good skill to have.”

Arnold nodded as Valerie set her mug back down in its spot on the coffee table, next to a copy of Stephen King’s ‘The Green Mile’. A classic, but a taste that no one would have pinned to her. By the pressed cardinal feather tucked between it’s worn yellow pages, she was far into it. With all of the shenanigans and chaos that she got into during the day, it was a wonder she had time to read.

“Is that any good?” he asked, gesturing to the book.  
“Oh? ‘The Green Mile’? Yes. Second time reading it through. Definitely dark, obviously, not for the faint of heart, but a good read, nonetheless.”  
“How do you even find the time to read?”  
“Just a little bit before bed every night. I think I read pretty fast, so it doesn’t take too long.”  
“That’s a good idea, actually. I’ll have to try that. Hey, do you have any coffee?”  
“I do, actually. Do you have a preference?”  
“Not really. Black is fine.”

She nodded, before getting up from her spot in her chair.

“Oh, I could have gotten it,” Arnold piped up. He started to stand.  
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I needed to get up anyway. Can’t sit for too long.”

Valerie chuckled a bit before leaving Arnold alone in the living room. The odd silence, save for Liz shuffling around on the table and the faint sounds of music from a record player from a room down the hall, gave him a moment to study the space. The walls were painted a bright yellow behind all the bookshelves covered with not books, but a menagerie of strange and assorted objects. Old globes, several different college diplomas of varying levels and degrees, statues of strange mythological creatures, the skeleton of a bird, and other odds and ends from various adventures and travels. Of course, a few shelves were filled with books, with anything from Charles Darwin’s ‘On The Origin Of Species’, to Douglas Adams’ “The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy’. Of course, there were a few photographs. A photo of Valerie with a group of other redheads, who of which Arnold could assume was Valerie’s siblings; a photo of a young Valerie with a large dog, a golden retriever to be exact; a photo of Valerie with Molly, clearly old from the yellow appearance and the bangs; and a photo of her with Archibald Seedplot. Phoebe’s old teacher, of course. That was a face he hadn’t seen in quite some time.

Arnold didn’t notice Valerie come back in, carrying a mug of coffee and another mug of tea for herself. She handed him a bright yellow mug, steaming hot, before settling back down into her chair and curling up with her own mug, a purple one with a pi symbol on it. How many mugs did she have? Too many to count, that was for sure, or at least Arnold’s assumption of it all. She seemed the type to have too many mugs and leave them in odd places and simply get another mug instead of finding the first one.

“That’s Seedplot, Phoebe’s old teacher, right?”  
“Correct. Excellent observation. What about it?”  
“How come there’s a picture of you two together? Is something going on between you and him?”  
“Friendship. Nothing more.”  
“Really? I mean, he seems to be your type.”  
“Type doesn’t matter when you’re not of that persuasion.”

Arnold froze for a moment, once again, his eyes widening. He blinked, once, twice.

“You’re not straight?”  
“Never have been, never will be, Arnold. I’m surprised no one in this town has figured that out.”  
“I mean, yeah, it’s obvious that you’re a little, well, uh.”  
“Just say it, Arnold. It’s fine.”  
“You’re a lesbian?”  
“Yes.”  
“And no one has figured it out?”  
“Surprisingly enough. I would have thought the single older woman who lives only with her lizard and has never dated a man would have been enough to get rumours going at the least. I’m disappointed, to say the least. Where is the creativity? Where is the drama? Clearly, not in Walkerville. I’d think for being the town oddity, I’d have more strange rumours floating around about me. Something about me being a former government agent or perhaps an alien. Spice it up a little!”  
“You’re crazy. Really.”  
“I am aware, yes. But you have to admit, you enjoyed fourth grade. I know you did deep down.”

She wasn’t wrong. Under all of the constant anxiety and his mantra of “I knew I should have stayed home today”, he really did enjoy all of the field trips, even so far as to defend his teacher. She wasn’t just crazy, no. She was crazy and a genius. Whether or not that was a good combination was to be debated, yes, but it was not worth the debate, Arnold decided. An eccentric genius was just what Walkerville needed and she filled the role perfectly.

“I thought you were going to kill us a few times, I won’t lie.”  
“And you know that I wouldn’t let that happen. I had a full handle on everything and I knew you kids were going to go home at the end of the safe and sound. Though that little scene you made on Pluto even left me a little..._frizzled_, to say the least.”

Arnold groaned while Valerie grinned.

“Horrible. That was horrible.”  
“It was hilarious and you know it. Carlos has nothing on me.”  
“Carlos is actually funny.”  
“I am too!”  
“You think you’re funny. There’s a difference.”

Valerie let out a loud laugh, snorting as she did so, leaving Arnold to facepalm, hiding his own laugh. His attempt, though, was futile, as he found himself throwing back his head to let out a loud laugh for himself. It filled the living room with a sense of warmth and a hint of nostalgia. 

“Oh, jeeze,” Arnold squeaked out after a moment, struggling to regain his composure. “Okay, okay, I’m good now, I’m good now. Jeeze. Yeah, we all thought you were just some strange cryptic creature. None of us really thought too much about it. You’re too nice for that. We just all collectively accepted that you’re weird and agreed to not talk about it.”  
“That’s a backhanded compliment if I’ve heard one.”  
“Well, I mean it in the nicest way possible.” Arnold’s face turned red from getting flustered. “You’re definitely weird, but you’re the cool kind of weird. And that’s good. Frankly, you being weird saved my butt in middle school. My weird got overlooked because hey, I was never weird as you.”  
“Again, backhanded, but I appreciate it.”  
“I’m trying my best.”  
“I know, and I really do appreciate it.”

Valerie gave him a smile, delicately leaning across the coffee table to ruffle his curly hair. Weird and kind. A good combination.

“Anyways,” she said, curling back up in her chair, “have you decided what you're going to college for?”  
“Geology, obviously, but I’m thinking about becoming a teacher.”

Valerie’s face lit up like the Fourth of July.

“You’ll be great. I know it. You have it in you.”  
“I’m definitely nervous about it. I know I won’t be as good as you are, but I’m going to put myself out there and do my best.”  
“You’re right. You’re not going to be as good as me. You’re going to be so much better. You’re going to go miles above.”  
“I wouldn’t say that,” Arnold replied. He raised a hand, rubbing his neck, “I mean, I still have so much to learn. I don’t know where to begin.”  
“Well, I think I know where to begin. Come along.”

Valerie stood up from her spot on the chair, once again gesturing for Arnold to follow her. She reached out onto the coffee table, picking up Liz and setting her on her shoulder. The three made their way out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen, where Valerie slipped some shoes on her feet and grabbed a pair of keys hanging beside the door. She pushed open said door, and the three stepped down the steps into the garage, where the bus sat quietly, waiting for something.

“The bus?” Arnold asked.  
“Mmhmm. I won’t be a teacher forever, we both know that. I just couldn’t figure out who to pass the keys to. But it turns out, the answer was right in front of me all along. Funny how that works out, huh?”  
“Does this mean what I think it means?”  
“It does, yes.”  
“But why me? I mean, I’m the last person I’d trust with this sort of responsibility. I know nothing.”  
“And by the end, you’ll know quite a bit. Do you think I learned everything overnight? Far from it. I’ve been at this for a long time and every day is still a learning experience.”  
“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you passing the keys to me?”  
“You won’t be reckless. You won’t be careless. You have just enough confidence to do it, but enough common sense not to overload the ol’ girl.”  
“Says you. You never did tell us whether your auto insurance policy covers dinosaurs.”  
“Yes. It falls under the category of ‘acts of God’.”  
“That’s good to know, I guess. But still.”  
“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Arnold. And I’m not going to throw you headfirst into it, not at all. Now come along. We’ve got work to be done. I’m certainly not dressed for this, no, but we’ll make do.”

Valerie sauntered across the garage floor, opening the bus doors and ascending the steps. She turned to look back at Arnold, her earrings seeming to flash. Now that he could properly see them, he realised what they were. Question marks. Uncertainty. Who knew what this adventure would hold? This certainly was not a standard run-of-the-mill field trip.

“Well, Arnold, are you coming or not?”  
“You know, I’m glad I didn’t stay home today. Move over.”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually did research for the auto-insurance policy and surprisingly enough, the Internet had information.


End file.
